


Prudery

by Cyllene



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Humor, M/M, Sex, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 05:16:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20961095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyllene/pseuds/Cyllene
Summary: Prudery - "the behavior or thinking of people who are too easily shocked or offended."Of the two of them, Crowley would have said Aziraphale would be more easily shocked when it came to matters of sex.  He would have been wrong.





	Prudery

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written any fanfiction for many years, but the lovely Crowley and Aziraphale have dragged me back in (kicking and screaming). I will be slowly moving my old fics over here, as time permits.

The last half hour had been something of a whirlwind, Aziraphale decided. First the fight with Crowley – he couldn’t even remember what it had been about– and then the shouting that had turned into shoving against the wall and then grabbing and furious kissing, which had led to clothes being shed at a spectacular rate. All of which was followed by a bed, panting, thrusting, and stretching, and ended with complete and utter surrender. And pleasure. So much pleasure. Demonic possession, the angel thought a little dazedly. So that’s what it really means. 

He lay in the tangled sheets, listening to Crowley gasping for air beside him, and he began taking inventory. The world was still spinning slightly, he noticed. He didn’t seem to have nearly enough oxygen in his lungs, which was unusual for a being that didn’t need to breathe, and he was more than a little sore. There were bruises on his wrists, and he could feel a warm fluid trickling out of him. He could miracle that away, he supposed, but he didn’t want to. It meant there was still something of Crowley inside of him. The pleasure of that thought almost overwhelmed him. Crowley. His demon. Inside him. He made a contented noise in the back of his throat. It might have been a purr.

Beside him, Crowley sat up abruptly and sat on the edge of the bed, facing away from him, his head hanging low. He was trembling, Aziraphale noticed and… Were those just heavy breaths or was he…? Suddenly concerned, the angel levered himself up, various aches manifesting as he did so – and put a hand on Crowley’s naked back. Crowley flinched. Aziraphale’s concern level shot up.

“Crowley? Are you all right?”

The demon shifted further away and muttered something Aziraphale couldn’t make out. 

“What was that?”

Crowley seemed to fold in on himself. “I – forced myself on you. I’m Ssss-sorry.” His head dropped even lower, waiting like a dog about to be beaten.

Indignation surged through Aziraphale. “You most certainly did not! Why would you think that? I mean, all right, that was all – a little unexpected. But it was completely consensual. Truly.” In a smaller voice, he continued, “Couldn’t you tell?”

The demon did not look up. “But – I held you down.”

Aziraphale and tilted his left wrist a bit. The bruises were already a pale shade of purple and exactly matched the shape of Crowley’s fingers. The demon had definitely marked him. He smiled. “Yes, you did. I didn’t mind in the slightest.”

Crowley turned to look. He paled, and reached for Aziraphale’s wrist, demonic healing powers rising up within him.

The angel snatched his hand back. “Don’t you dare! I’m keeping these until they fade.”

Crowley stared at him, shocked. “You… What…? Why…?” He seemed to be losing the power of speech entirely.

Aziraphale’s heart melted at the confused expression on Crowley’s face. He edged over until he was sitting beside him and took his hand. This time the demon didn’t flinch or pull away, just stared at him with wide eyes. 

“Oh, my dear,” he said softly. “I‘ve just discovered that I like being held down. By you, that is. I’m sure I wouldn’t enjoy it if it were anyone else. But with you – well… It was rather thrilling.”

Crowley swallowed hard. “Thrilling?”

He nodded. “Yes. Very, very much. Really. You didn’t force me in any way.”

Crowley swallowed and looked away. His voice came out in a thready whisper. “But I wouldn’t have stopped. If you hadn’t wanted to… It wouldn’t have mattered. I wouldn’t have stopped.”

Oh my poor demon, Aziraphale thought. What had Hell done to him? So much self-loathing, so many doubts. Well, this one at least he could deal with. He tightened his grip on Crowley’s hand. “Yes, you would.” There was no uncertainty in his voice. “And I can prove it. Hold on, dear.”

Startled, Crowley met his eyes…just as Aziraphale twisted time and sent them both back fifteen minutes.

_Aziraphale was on his back, Crowley above him, thrusting hard and fast, his hands tight around the angel’s wrists. The angel couldn’t move, could barely keep up as pleasure mounted and crashed over him in waves. His breath came in gasps as he was stretched and filled to the breaking point in the most wonderful way, and for an instant he was tempted to just remain here in the past and let it all play out again…but he had something more important to do._

_“Crowley,” it came out as a ragged whisper. He tried again. “Crowley. Stop, my dear.”_

_The demon lost his rhythm, just a little, and yellow eyes met angelic blue ones. “Wh-what?”_

_“Stop, Crowley,” he said softly._

_Another moment passed, and then the demon pulled out of him and backed up, an appalled look on his face. Before he could say anything, Aziraphale twisted time again, _and they were back in the present, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“There, you see? You stopped the moment I asked you to.”

Crowley looked at him, stunned. “How did you do that?”

Aziraphale smiled. “You’re not the only one who can play with time, my dear. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve you haven’t seen, even after all these years.” His fingers curled around the demon’s and he gave him a wicked smile. “Believe me, Crowley, if had wanted you to stop, I could have stopped you. Quite easily, in fact.”

* * *

In the last forty-five minutes, Crowley had had rather a lot of shocks. The first had been when his angel had shouted right back at him. He couldn’t remember what the fight had been about, but instead of remaining cold and calm or becoming hurt or just leaving altogether, all the things Aziraphale usually did, the angel had given as good as he got. He had even thrown one of his precious books at him.

And somehow – Crowley wasn’t really sure how – it had all led to him pinning Aziraphale to the wall and kissing him, desperately and hopelessly. The second shock had come when the angel had kissed him right back, just as desperately. 

After that, the shocks had come thick and fast. The bed, the sex, and then… The DISCOVERIES. That was how he was going to think of them in the future, he decided. DISCOVERIES, in large, blazing capital letters. The discovery that Aziraphale had actually enjoyed it when Crowley had pinned him down. The discovery that the angel seemed to cherish the bruises the demon had inflicted on him. The time travel. When had time travel become a thing for both of them?

But the biggest shock of all wasn’t Aziraphale’s supreme confidence that he could have stopped Crowley – _easily_ \- if he had wished. No, the biggest shock was that Azirphale hadn’t wished to. The angel – _his_ angel – had enthusiastically participated in everything that had just happened. Had wanted _him. _Crowley. A demon.

In times of high emotion, Crowley sometimes reverted back to his former snake self. Particularly his tongue. When his emotions became too strong, it grew difficult to talk and often when he tried, only hissing came out. So he didn’t try. Instead, he lay back down on the bed, pulling the sheet over himself, and stared up at Aziraphale, still trying to come to terms with, well, everything.

The angel beamed at him then climbed over him so he was sitting beside Crowley with his back against the headboard and pulled the sheet up to his waist.

“Why don’t you take a nap, my dear? I know how much you enjoy sleeping, and I have a lot of research to do.” He waved his hand and a pile of books appeared beside him. Crowley could see some of the titles from where he lay. The Kama Sutra. The History of Sexuality, Vol 1. (just how many volumes were there anyway, he wondered dazedly). Sex Lives of the Roman Emperors. (What? Why?) Consensual Spanking. Sex Devices Across the Ages. And strangely enough, something called Bonk. 

He gulped and managed to say: “Resssssearch?”

The angel nodded brightly. “For next time.”

“N-next time?” He really needed to stop repeating everything Aziraphale said, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Also, he could do without the stammer.

Aziraphale bit his lip. “You, uh, you do want there to be a next time. Don’t you?” He looked suddenly worried.

Crowley could only nod. As firmly as possible.

The angel’s smile returned, even brighter than before. “Oh good! That’s all right them. Well, it’s just that…I’m sure you have more experience than me in these matters, so I thought I’d do some reading. To catch up, as it were.”

Crowley blinked then shook his head, his tongue stuck firmly to the roof of his mouth.

Aziraphale blinked too. “You don’t? That was…? Was that your first time too, Crowley?”

He hesitated then nodded.

An indescribably fond look appeared on the angel’s face. “Oh, how lovely! We can learn together!”

Overwhelmed, Crowley shrank a little further under the covers. Whenever he had dared dream of the possibility of this happening, he hadn’t really thought it would go quite like this. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it hadn’t been this. Not boundless enthusiasm, followed by a stack of books and lots of reading. Although, given it was Aziraphale, maybe he should have expected that after all. The angel did everything enthusiastically, from dancing the gavotte, to – apparently – fucking Crowley. And the reading was probably a given.

Aziraphale had manifested a pen, notebook, and a – was that a yellow highlighter? He was already flipping through pages, holding some of them at various angles, and muttering to himself while he took notes. 

“Pages 1 to 10, definitely! Oh no, not that one. Far too athletic. Hmm. Role playing has a certain appeal. We could do “The Nanny and the Gardener”. Only without those dreadful teeth of course. Possibly with spanking.” 

Crowley pulled the sheet up to his eyes and blinked at the angel in disbelief. Spanking? The Nanny and the Gardener? What?

Aziraphale ignored him. “Oh, that’s interesting. Double penetration. I’d need to switch to a vagina of course, and it would really only work if there were two of you. Hmm, perhaps in your snake form. I’ve read snakes have two…” He gave Crowley a sideways glance. “Ah, well. Perhaps we can work up to that…”

Crowley hid under the covers.

“Ooh, bondage!”


End file.
